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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886 [1854], Leather stocking and silk, or, Hunter John Myers and his times: a story of the valley of Virginia. (Harper and Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf515T].
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CHAPTER XXX. NINA SETS HER WITS TO WORK.

[figure description] Page 127.[end figure description]

When the last guest had disappeared, father Von Horn
went to his daughter, and tenderly took her by the hand.
Nina covered her eyes with the other hand, and shed a
flood of tears—of disappointment, mortification, and sorrow.

Father Von Horn was unmoved.

“Know you not, daughter,” he said in a low tone,
“that this is a fatal augury in our family—an ancestor
haunting his grave on the occasion of a wedding?”

Nina only sobbed.

“The roof tree would fall and crush us,” continued the
old man, solemnly, “were we to persist! Barry has never
yet told an untruth; but his woeful plight is evidence
enough. Courtlandt the Tall has arisen! The marriage
is broken!”

“Forever, father?” sobbed Nina.

“Forever, daughter!” the old man replied much
agitated, “it can not be. I could consent to your leaving
me, though I have nursed you from your mother's
death to the present hour, and seen your infant face merge
itself into childhood, childhood change gradually to girlhood,
womanhood lastly come to place its stamp upon
your forehead. Well! though I have watched you
through all these changeful and happy years, living most
on this earth for you, I could give you to one you loved,
I could part with my jewel to one who seemed to prize it

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aright. But there is another parting which I can not
consent to—that parting is the eternal parting on this
earth; your death!”

“My death, father!”

“Yes, Nina; were this marriage to take place, how
know I that my daughter would not be the victim of my
weakness. Her death would be the death of two persons—
the old worn body would no longer hold to earth, the
poor heart—it is getting very old and weary—would
wear away its prison before many days of such a grief
had passed. No, daughter, it must not be. Courtlandt
the Tall has arisen!” the old man solemnly said, “the
marriage is broken off, and will not be written in the
Red Book! Enough.”

Nina, much touched by her father's words made no
reply—only sobbed. Suddenly, however, she was observed
to start.

“Father,” she said, “I know Barry has seen something;
but could not this have been a trick played on
him?”

“A trick?”

“An imposition, by some one; just think, father!”

“Who could think of it? Who would presume!”
cried the old man.

“Many would, father.”

“To trifle with my family matters, and practice on
my feelings!”

“Father,” cried Nina, “the more I think, the more I
am convinced there is some deception in the matter. Just
think.”

Father Von Horn was incredulous; but slowly the
idea seemed to gather weight and probability in his
mind.

“Father,” said Nina, “before you break off forever
this marriage, in which my heart is engaged, grant me
one favor—but one, father.”

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“What is it, daughter?”

“That you will send invitations for the wedding, for
the day after to-morrow, as before—”

“Well—”

“Then you might go to the church-yard—I know it is
an imposition, father;—and find—”

“I?—to the church-yard!”

“Father, I know it is an imposition,” cried Nina;
“and I think I know who it is. If it is a deception, it
will be repeated—if it is not, sir, and you see—see—what
Barry saw, then I will never again mention the subject
of my marriage.”

This seemed plausible to father Von Horn; he feared
the responsibility to his own conscience, too, which he
had incurred, by so abruptly on a child's report, breaking
off the intended marriage. The old man was exceedingly
superstitious—this is his excuse—far more so than Nina.

Nina was not superstitious at all;—and so forcible
were her arguments on this occasion, that she won her
father's consent to every thing. The invitations were to
be sent out again, every preparation for the wedding was
to be made for the second evening; and on the next evening—
the wedding eve—her father was to ascertain for
himself, the truth of Barry's relation.

“Donner and Blitzen!” swore father Von Horn, “if it
is a trick!” When Nina heard this famous oath, she
knew that she need say no more

-- --

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Cooke, John Esten, 1830-1886 [1854], Leather stocking and silk, or, Hunter John Myers and his times: a story of the valley of Virginia. (Harper and Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf515T].
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